


Candid

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26462524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: Nothing but the best for these two. One of many candid moments I hope to explore in greater detail in future fics. Did I mention it's fluffy? So, so fluffy.
Relationships: Julie "Finn" Finlay/Nick Stokes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Candid

Blink and you’ll miss her. That’s how fast she entered his life. She fit right in like a puzzle piece. He considered himself a pretty predictable guy, he liked a routine, even if his job was far from it. It was nice to have control over his free time. But in less than a year, she spun him wildly out of control in every way shape and form. Now he was locked in to a new routine, one that completely revolved around her. His new and improved world began first thing in the morning. Waking up before her was a must. It gave him a front row seat to the headlining show that was her, dazzling him with her pure self. 

Hovering between wake and sleep created wonderful quirks from her. She was a burrower; into the mattress, attempting to fuse her body to the bed, the pillows, rubbing her face against them involuntarily, his side, bumping her hip against him, his chest where she could hear his heartbeat, his shoulder where her wild hair tickled him, nuzzling endlessly, a chaotic string of cuddles. Once she found a comfortable position, she would stay for a while, then her restless body would have to move again. She enjoyed his warmth and the warmth from the blankets but she craved the coolness of the sheets on the side of the bed they were not sleeping on. She shifted often between the two, leaving wrinkled sheets in her path of beautiful destruction. 

On her side, she curled, tucking her arms in against her chest. On her stomach, she splayed out across most of the bed, hand resting on the pillow, close to her face, rubbing her eyes occasionally, sleep laden, weighed down by exhaustion. On her back, she shoved her arm under the pillow, searching for the coolness, head turned to one side, matting her hair. If she was too hot, she stuck her leg out from under the covers, letting the pant leg ride up so her bare skin could touch the cool sheets and feel the breeze from the cool air conditioning. The shirt sleeve of whatever T-shirt she wore would get pushed up in her chaotic sliding during the night, revealing her shoulder, an irresistibly kissable spot he became enthralled with, sometimes nudging the sleeve of her shirt aside while she slept just to kiss her there, letting his fingers graze her shoulder delicately in between kisses. 

When she slipped away from him during the night and he wanted her back, craving her warmth and soft skin, he reached out for her, hands fumbling blindly in the dark until he touched her, sliding his arms around her body and pulling her back to his side of the bed, letting her hip bump against his on purpose, gentle, but effective in getting her to turn over and rest against him. 

Her softness enthralled and excited him. He adores the way her cheek twitches when he brushes his thumb against it, smoothing over those tiny freckles that adorned her cheeks, delicate, beautiful. Her skin was always warm and soothing to the touch, leaving him wanting more. When she jammed her arm in his direction, flinging it across his chest, he soothed her with kisses to her wrist, trailing down her arm, watching her twitch and shrug her shoulder, smiling in her half asleep state. She must have received ten thousand forehead kisses from him in just a short amount of time, one of his favorite places to kiss. She was always warm there, and when her hair got in the way, he brushed it aside, whispering against her skin, some affection just for her. 

When she began to wake up a bit more, that’s when her playful side was unleashed. Her head found his shoulder, bumping, nudging, nuzzling right into his neck, smiling against his skin, her turn to spoil him and savor his warmth. He could not hide his laughter when her hair tickled him, her signature move that drove him crazy and left a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. He kept his arm around her waist, hand resting on her back so she would stay here and keep spoiling him with this maddeningly soft affection. 

Reciprocating this softness, he teased aside her shirt, letting his hand wander lazily to her lower back, scratching lightly, reveling in how she squirmed in response. The slower his fingers grazed her skin, the more she giggled. He shifted them, sliding slowly, agonizingly up her tender side, scratching lightly under her rib cage, unleashing a soft squeal from her, before making the slow descent down her twitching side, coming to rest on her hip. The familiar circles began, lazy, light, circling her hip bone and the tender groove, over and over, the tingling in her stomach intensifying with each pass of his fingers across her skin. He couldn’t resist pressing his thumb into the soft spot, savoring her gasp in surprise and delight. She arches forward first, bumping into his side in a clumsy attempt to escape. When that won’t do, she rolls over onto her back, instinctively trying to curl her legs up, giving him a chance to ghost his fingers across her stomach, lulled by her throaty giggles, one arm around her keeping her locked in his embrace, fingers pressed into her hip, the other hand on a journey, fingers fluttering along her stomach, delving into her skin, finding pleasure in how wonderfully ticklish she is. 

What a wonderful way to start the day, he can’t help but think as she squirms in his arms, her hands grabbing at his, her fingers brushing against his trying to latch on but failing, her knees curling up, blankets entangled around them, cheeks flushing red, caught up in the thrill of the moment. He only half halfheartedly stops this tickling game when she squeaks out his name in protest, so soft, so giggly, no one else knows her like this. She recovers, nestled in the middle of the bed where she frantically slid over to in the chaos. He’s on top of her now, ready to swoop down with kisses for her but that sneaky hand of his lays flat on her stomach and she can’t help but giggle into the kiss. 

“That’s tickling” she protests, her first soft spoken words of the day. 

“What, this?” he feigns confusion, digging his fingers into her stomach, latching on but gently. 

“Yes,” she squeaks, giggling and squirming more. 

“You’re amazing,” he marvels of her sweet nature, soft heart and penchant for this type of play. 

She has no way to answer him, just a continuing string of giggles now that she’s awake proper. 

Deep down, she doesn’t want to leave this bed, she doesn’t want to ever stop playing like this with him and as much as it tickles, she never wants him to take his hands off her. But their day has to go on, they just rouse and start breakfast and prepare for what lies ahead, not knowing when their next chance to fall into this bed will occur. She wants to savor this for as long as she can, until the moment when darkness overtakes them, exhaustion weighing them down, tying them to this bed and to each other, pressed close in the darkness, just them and the night. There was never a greater desire in her heart, than for this alone time with him.


End file.
